Missing Peace
by Analorien
Summary: Philip comes to Angel Island - but is he really on just a vacation?


The ringing telephone interrupted Derek's reverie. Frustrated, he hit the talk button.  
  
"Luna Foundation."  
  
"Derek?" The voice on the line was hesitant, yet he instantly recognized the voice of his godson, Father Philip Callahan.  
  
"Philip! It's good to hear from you!" Derek smiled. Philip was much too rarely heard from these days.  
  
"Derek, can I impose on ye for a few days?" He hesitated. "I find meself taking a vacation taking a vacation unexpectedly. I have some translations I know ye'd like me to start on –"  
  
"Of course, Philip, you know your room here is always available to you, whether you're here on business or not. You rarely give us the pleasure of seeing you anymore. When are you coming?"  
  
There was a pause on the other end; briefly Derek thought Philip hadn't heard him, then Philip began to speak. "Thank ye, Derek. I'll be there in the morning. I've got to run now. Bye."  
  
Derek broke the connection thoughtfully. Something is wrong, he thought to himself, Philip is not telling me something. Derek got up from where he was working and went to the control room to tell Alex of Philip's arrival Philip sat in his room, unmoving. Sweet Jesus, he thought to himself, when will I ever be free to be just a priest? His mind wandered back to the events of the morning. Breakfast had started so normally, and then to his surprise Father Murphy had announced that the Bishop was coming to see him. From the look on Father Murphy's face, Philip was sure it wasn't a social call. Later, when the Bishop arrived, Philip was even more surprised to find that he was being given a Sabbatical "for an extended period of time." He was sure his world couldn't get much worse when the Bishop told him gently, "Use this time to think things through, Philip – there's no shame in reconsidering things."  
  
After the Bishop left, Philip returned to his room. His room. Austere though it was, it was the only place he had. No, he corrected himself, I have my room at the Legacy House. But that was little comfort, considering how he had turned his back on them. It would serve him right now if they also turned their backs on him. Deep in his heart, though, he knew that they were true friends – truer than he had been. As he picked up the phone he thought, Derek, please be there. He was abruptly pulled from his thoughts as he heard Derek's voice on the other end.  
  
************************  
  
Nick breathed in the brisk ocean air with a lazy smile. He was unsure why Derek had sent him to meet the ferry that would bring Philip to Angel Island, since Derek knew that he and Philip had not quite come to terms with each other yet. Actually, Nick thought, that's probably why he had me meet him. Nick sighed. Maybe I am being too hard on Philip, he thought. The priesthood is sure a far cry from what I used do in the SEALs, or even here at the Legacy. I chose to be here, Philip just kind of got drafted. But still, Nick thought, even if you're drafted, you still have to serve and make the best of it. There is no turning back.  
  
The ferry whistle sounded and Nick looked to see if he could see Philip standing on the deck. Philip had told him once that when he came over from Ireland on a ship, he had spent as much time as he could on the deck, rather than be cramped up in his quarters. Nick smiled and waved as he caught sight of Philip – yes, he was on the deck as usual.  
  
Nick watched as Philip gathered his bags. He was surprised at the amount of luggage he had brought. Funny, he mused, Derek said he was taking a little vacation, not moving in. He made his way to the pier as he called Philip's name.  
  
"Need a hand?" he asked as Philip approached.  
  
"Sure. Thanks, " replied Philip. "It's pretty here by the harbor in the mornings, don't ye think? It makes me think of Ireland."  
  
"What's it like?" asked Nick.  
  
"What? Ireland?" asked Philip. He thought for a moment. How could he describe the way it was, not only the beauty of the land, but of the people, the life itself? "It's a lot like the hills over there, you see how the sun comes over them? And the little houses halfway up? Where I am from, it's like that, not a lot of people." And how I wish I were there now, he added silently.  
  
"Do you wish you were there now?" Nick asked him.  
  
Philip looked at him in surprise. How could he have known that's what I was thinking? I didn't know Nick had the sight.  
  
"Well, do you?" Nick persisted.  
  
"Yes, I do," Philip said quietly. "It seems, though, that I am always to stay away from where I really want to be."  
  
Nick looked up, surprised by the anger and bitterness in Philip's voice. That's odd, he thought, I've never seen him angry before. He always accepts things as 'God's will' and never fights back. I wonder why, he thought.  
  
"Ok, this is the last of it." He shut the back hatch of the Land Rover and looked at Philip. "Want to drive?" he offered.  
  
"No thanks." Philip smiled, the first real smile of the morning. "But thanks for the offer. Can I take a raincheck?"  
  
"Sure." They buckled themselves in and drove away from the pier at a leisurely pace. The drive was short and scenic, up a lane meandered through shady trees and delicately scented flowers.  
  
I wonder if Derek would let me plant some roses here, thought Philip. I've always had a green thumb and there are lots of areas here that still need to be planted. Perhaps I could stay on as a groundskeeper, he thought. A groundskeeper, he thought, stifling a giggle. I haven't even officially left the church, and here I am looking for another job.  
  
The short drive ended in front of the mansion proper. "Every time I come here I expect to see Derek dressed in medieval clothes, as is proper for the 'laird of the manor,'" said Philip with a grin.  
  
"Now that would be something to see," said a voice from the doorway and Derek himself stepped out to greet him. "Welcome home, Philip," said Derek, and reached out to grasp his hand. "I hope your stay will be for a while, this time. There are a few things I need your advice on, and I know you have an interest in gardening. What do you think of planting some roses around? My mother is sending me some from Amsterdam, and I am afraid the salt air will hurt them."  
  
Philip looked at him strangely. "Sure, Derek, let me know when they arrive."  
  
"Philip! So you're finally here! Derek told me you were coming! I am so glad to see you! Here, let me give you guys a hand with all that." Alex gave Philip a hug, then grabbed a bag and bounded upstairs before he could reply. Nick just looked at Philip and grinned.  
  
"Let's get the rest of this upstairs," Nick said. "You heard the boss lady."  
  
*********************  
  
Alone in his room Philip sat on the window seat and looked out. Derek must have known of the homesickness that he carried with him, for this room had been his since he had come to live at the mansion many years ago. From his window he could look out and see the harbor, the hills, everything that reminded him of his home in Ireland. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. How do I tell them that I'm not a priest anymore, he thought. He drew a deep breath. He felt like he was being torn apart. How can I be anything else? He thought. This is all I know, this is all I feel, he thought desperately. How can the thing I most want not to do be the thing I am most called to be? His mind wandered back to something Derek had said to him when he was in the hospital after the ghost of the serial killer Erik Ravenswood had tried to kill him – that 'there are other forces at work – destiny, perhaps. Why are any of us called to this?'  
  
Why indeed, he thought. But look at Alex and Rachel, they love our work here. Well, maybe Rachel doesn't as much as Alex, he reconsidered, but she still manages to come through for them. Why can't I be as content as they are? Philip got up off the window seat and paced silently around the room. Maybe I should go back to Ireland, he thought. That seems to be the easiest solution for everyone.  
  
"Hey, Philip! Are you busy?" Nick knocked on the door, ending Philip's thoughts. "Feel like going jogging with me?"  
  
"Sure. How about along the beach?"  
  
"Ok. I'll wait for you downstairs."  
  
"I'll be down just as soon as I change my clothes," Philip watched as Nick loped down the stairs. Maybe a run will clear my head, he thought.  
  
  
  
Nick and Philip ran. Both men were in good shape, although Nick thought the priesthood had taken the edge off of Philip's physical condition. Still, thought Nick, he's keeping up. They ran in companionable silence until they reached the ferry landing where many of the crew greeted Nick. "Hello, Nick!" "Nick! How's it going?" "Looking good, Nick!" "Hey, Nicky, who's your friend?"  
  
Philip looked at Nick with a smile. "You have a lot of friends."  
  
Nick gazed at Philip steadily. "So do you, you know."  
  
"I know," Philip said, returning his gaze. "I count you in that number."  
  
"Good, " replied Nick. "I wouldn't have it any other way."  
  
They ran along the beach until both winded, they sat down on the sand. The sun was warm upon them, and the wind supplied a refreshing breeze. It was a perfect day for a jog on the beach. Philip threw himself back on the sand and looked up at the sun, shielding his eyes with his arm. I wonder what's going on at the rectory, he thought lazily. Do they miss me? It's surprising, but I really am content to be here. I wonder why I never came here on vacation before.  
  
Nick looked at Philip stretched out on the sand. He looks tired, he thought. I'm sure something's up, but I don't know what. Whatever it is, though, it's dragging him through the wringer. He stretched and got to his feet.  
  
Nick pushed all other thoughts from his mind and began to breathe deeply. He began the first movements of his martial arts form. The disciplined movements were precise and smooth, wasting no motion. His muscles rippled underneath the soft touch of the sun, and he breathed in the sweet salt of the air. He was surprised to find that Philip had arisen and was by his side, echoing his movements. They finished the form together as one and then bowed to each other.  
  
"Thanks for letting me do the form with you, Nick. It's been a long time since I was able to enjoy the discipline." Philip looked at Nick shyly.  
  
"No problem. I didn't know you were into the martial arts. Isn't that kind of 'unpriestly'?" Nick asked.  
  
"Actually," Philip blushed under Nick's gaze," I learned taikwondo when I was younger, before I became a priest. I think the discipline was what I like most about it. It's sort of like the discipline I practiced as a priest. And, " Philip admitted with a wry grin, " it's been a lifesaver more than once."  
  
"Yeah, I can imagine having to fight off of the other priests for the chance to hear confessions, right?" Nick stretched lazily. "Well, it's time to go back. Think you can make it?" he teased. Practiced? He thought to himself. Why did he say it like that? Something is up, but he doesn't want to say.  
  
Philip smiled. "Of course. And if I don't, you can always carry me." He stretched and went to stand next to Nick. "Ready then?"  
  
"Ok." They started to jog up the beach when suddenly Nick caught a glimpse of metal in the sand. "Hey, what's that?" he asked. He squatted down and started to dig out the thing embedded in the sand. "Wait a minute, Philip," he called, "I found something here."  
  
Philip came jogging back to stand beside Nick. "What is it?"  
  
"I don't know, but I'll have it out in a minute," he said, pulling it free. "Here it comes!" Nick brushed the sand off to reveal a cross suspended from a golden chain. "Looks old, doesn't it?" he asked. "I wonder what it's doing here on the beach?" he mused.  
  
"Yeah, and where it came from?" Philip frowned. "Maybe it washed up from some old wreck," he suggested.  
  
Nick gave the cross to Philip. "Here, this is your territory. Do you recognize it?"  
  
Philip couldn't resist a smile. "Nick, in technical terms, we call this a cross."  
  
Nick rolled his eyes. "Thank you for telling me. Yes, I know it's a cross, Philip, but what else does it mean?"  
  
Philip chuckled. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. Well, it's a Celtic cross; it looks like something from the old country."  
  
"Celtic? You mean from Ireland?" asked Nick.  
  
"Or Scotland, aye."  
  
Nick groaned. "What are the odds that an Irish priest would find a Celtic cross buried in the sand just where he happened to be jogging?" Nick asked. "I'm beginning to have a feeling about this." He sighed. "Well, let's get it back to the house. You and Alex can put a date on it, and maybe a location." He gathered the chain and the cross and held it out to Philip. "Here, I don't have any pockets – do you?"  
  
"Yeah, here – " Philip took the cross and put it the pockets of his sweat pants and they started off for the house once more.  
  
  
  
Once back at the house, Philip showered and changed before going to find Alex. He laid the cross on his dresser while he changed, noticing how it seemed to absorb the heat from his hand. It is odd, he thought, that we would find it today. I wonder how it got to be buried in the sand?  
  
Alex was waiting for him when he went downstairs. "Philip! There you are! Nick said you guys found something on the beach. What is it?"  
  
"Whoa, lass, slow down. Here it is. It's a Celtic cross, this much I ken, but I dinna know anythin' else about it." Philip showed the cross to Alex who held out her hand to take it. Philip reluctantly gave it to her.  
  
"This is pretty detailed carving on the crossmember, here. On the back, many artists put their mark or their initial, something to show that they made it." She turned the cross over, searching for something that would help determine its origin. "Let's take into the control room and run some tests," she said, starting to go.  
  
"No!" Philip hastily backtracked. "I mean, before we start subjecting it to chemicals, let me try to place it from the archives. If I don't find anything, then we can run some tests."  
  
"Oh. Well, all right. When you're done, come and get me. I'll be in the control room, Philip," she said, puzzled. I wonder what that was all about, she thought, making her way to the control room. As she walked up to the false wall, she heard the faint whirring that reminded her that her iris was being scanned. As she was allowed entry intro the control room she was once again filled with the feeling of wonder that she felt every time she felt every time she entered here. What technology, she thought, and yet it pales in comparison to some of the things I've seen since coming here. She caught sight of Derek, her mentor, reading some computer printouts. "Derek," she said, "hi."  
  
Derek looked up absently from his reading. "Hello, Alex. I thought you were going to work on finding out the origin of the cross that Nick and Philip found on the beach."  
  
Alex sat down beside him. "I thought so too, but Philip said he wanted to try to place it from the archives first, before we ran any chemical tests on it."  
  
"You sound disappointed," Derek said.  
  
"Well, I am a little, I guess." She sighed and picked up one of the printouts he had been looking out. "Have you seen it?"  
  
"The cross? No, but Nick did a pretty good job of describing it for me. It was buried in the sand, he sand, but it came out easily enough."  
  
"Yeah, that's what Philip said, but he didn't seem to want me to help him work on it. We've always worked together with no problem, and now he seems to be pushing me away." Alex sounded frustrated and hurt.  
  
Derek laid a consoling hand on her shoulder. "I wouldn't worry about it. Perhaps he just feels like he needs to earn his keep."  
  
"Earn his keep?" Alex frowned. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Nothing really. It's just that Philip is very proud, and he was very hesitant to come here for his vacation without working on something for the Legacy. I suspect that this is what's happening. It's not you." Derek turned his attention back to the printout on the table. "Don't worry about it, " he said. "I'm sure he'll come around. In the meantime, would you like to help me analyze these fragments?"  
  
"Sure, Derek." She walked around the table as he began to explain what he was looking for.  
  
*********************************  
  
Philip lifted his eyes to gaze at the cross on the table. It seemed to glow with it's own energy and call out to be worn. He touched it gently with the tip of his index finger. He was surprised to find that it was not only warm to his touch, but hot! He pulled his hand back and looked at his finger. There was a burn on it! The symbol on the cross had been burnt into his where he touched it, like a brand. Funny, he thought, it doesn't hurt at all. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. I am getting nowhere fast, he thought. I should have gone with Alex to the control room. I could use a cup of coffee, he thought. I'll take this to her now, and she can start running the tests. His eyes fell on the clock on the library wall. "Three o'clock!" he said aloud, startled by both the sound of his own voice and the hour. He looked down at the book in his hands and those scattered about the table. I must have fallen asleep, he thought. I haven't done much this night at all. He gathered the books together to take to his room. He looked at his finger. The mark was faintly visible, but still it didn't hurt. That's strange, he thought, I wonder how the cross got so hot. Oh well, tomorrow is time enough to sort things out. He reached for the cross to put it in his pocket, then changed his mind and slipped it over his neck. He turned out the lights as he made his way down the hall to his room.  
  
Philip lay across his bed, thinking of everything that had happened. Funny, he thought, I'm not even tired, not even after jogging. Then everything faded away and his eyes closed as he fell into a deep sleep.  
  
His footsteps echoed lightly in the hallway as he made his way down the stairs. He looked at the portraits on the wall, the artifacts on display, everything, as if he had never seen them before. He stood before the window in the breakfast nook, looking at the grounds now shrouded with the covering darkness of the night. This is a good place, he thought to himself. This is where I would stay. He turned and went through the hall again, this time turning up the stairs to his unknowing host's room. He paused as he stopped front of Derek's room and put his hand on the door. He inhaled sharply and his body stiffened. This is the leader, he thought. This is the one who will oppose me. He slowly lowered his hands to his sides. Closing his eyes, he stepped into the door and passed through it. Derek moved in his sleep as if he sensed someone in his room. Sleep now, the entity thought, while you can. Sleep until I am done. The unseen visitor turned and left the same way it had entered.  
  
He made his way down the hall, pausing in front of each of the doors. A movement caught the corner of his eye and-  
  
Philip became aware of someone persistently knocking on his door. "Philip! Philip, are you awake? You have a phone call." Nick knocked once more. "Philip, wake up!"  
  
"Don't knock the bloody door down, I'm awake!" he said blearily. "What do ye want?"  
  
"Father Murphy is on the phone, he wants to talk to you," called Nick through the door. "He says it's important."  
  
Philip closed his eyes again. His head was pounding. "Philip, are you up?" Nick called again.  
  
"Aye, lad, I'm coming." Philip swung the blankets away to find he hadn't even taken his clothes off from the previous day. "Don't believe everything a priest tells you, lad. Everything is important to them. He probably wants to know what nun to –"  
  
"Philip! Are you coming or what?" Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing.  
  
Philip opened the door. "Lead me to the phone."  
  
"Here. I thought you might want to get dressed before you came down, so I brought you the cordless." He gave it to Philip, then turned and walked back down the stairs.  
  
"Hallo?" said Philip tiredly.  
  
"Philip? Is that you?" came Father Murphy's voice. "You sound different."  
  
"Yes, John, it's me. What do ye want?" he said curtly.  
  
Father Murphy cleared his throat. "Philip, the Bishop has decided that during your Sabbatical I need to have someone here to help me. I wanted to tell you myself, rather than you finding out the hard way." The elderly priest paused, unable to continue. After a moment he went on, "You are no longer assistant pastor here."  
  
Philip couldn't believe what he was hearing. They hadn't even waited for him to make a decision one way or the other. "The hard way? Do you think this is easy? I can't believe the Bishop is doing this to me!"  
  
"Philip! Philip, please! The Bishop is doing what's best for the Parish. I'm an old man, Philip, I need a helper here. The duties are too much for me alone!" Father Murphy had never heard Philip like this before.  
  
"Fine! Do what is best for the church, for yeself!" Philip said angrily.  
  
"Philip, calm down! What is the matter with you? I have never seen you act this way before," said Father Murphy in bewilderment. "Please, Philip, let's not part this way."  
  
Philip took with a deep breath. Sweet Jesus, he thought to himself, what has come over me? John Murphy would do me no wrong. "John, I –" he cleared his throat. "I am so sorry. Please forgive me, John, I don't know what came over me. I know this is hard for ye, and I wouldn't make it harder for the world. Please, John, forgive me."  
  
"It's alright, Philip. Of course I forgive you. It came as a shock, I know. I was upset too. Please don't think badly of us, Philip." Father Murphy didn't know what had happened to Philip. He never heard such a tone from his friend before.  
  
"Of course not, John. Please, send the rest of my things to the Luna Foundation on Angel Island, in care of my godfather, Derek Rayne. You'll find the address in my file. He's my emergency contact, " Philip said resignedly.  
  
"Yes Philip. I'll be going now. Philip, take care of yourself." Father Murphy said with compassion  
  
"God bless ye, John. Goodbye." Philip slowly hung up the phone. It was complete now. He truly wasn't a priest anymore. He bowed his head, unable to comprehend the finality of it all. He leaned his head against the doorframe. I deserve to be kicked out, he thought. Look how I treated that poor man. He was only trying to soften the blow and I attacked him. Too late he realized the door was still open. He softly closed it and went to sit on the bed. Well, now they know, he thought.  
  
Sipping his coffee at the table, Nick wondered at the change in Philip. He had never heard Philip speak disrespectfully of anyone, much less the church to which he had devoted himself. Now, more than ever, he was sure something was going on. He couldn't hear what Philip was saying, but the fact that he could hear anything at all indicated just how upset his friend was. Silently he pondered if he should talk to Derek. He didn't want to cause a problem, but if Philip was in trouble or need help in some way, they should know about it.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts?" Rachel broke into his reverie. "Or did inflation set in? How much more is it these days?" Pouring herself a cup of coffee she sat down beside Nick.  
  
"Rach. Hi. How's it going?" he greeted her.  
  
"I'm fine, but you look like you're a million miles away. Is something wrong?" she asked.  
  
"I'm not sure, "Nick replied.  
  
"What do you mean? Tell me about it." Rachel put her coffee down and looked at Nick.  
  
"Yesterday Philip came from the rectory, right? He's just been acting a little strange."  
  
"What do you mean by strange?" she asked.  
  
Nick sighed. What did he mean by strange? "It's hard to explain, " he said. "He's just not acting like himself. Yesterday he went jogging with me, and then brushed Alex off when she offered to help do some research on a cross we found. He was up almost all night. The library sensor kept going off, that's how I know he was in there until about three this morning," he said in response to the question in eyes. "Then this morning I went to tell him he had a phone call from Father Murphy and he was telling me I shouldn't believe everything a priest tells me, that Father Murphy just wanted to ask him what nun to –"  
  
Rachel looked at him expectantly. "To what?"  
  
Nick blushed. "Well, I didn't let him finish the sentence, but you can guess what he was going to say."  
  
"Rachel laughed. "Philip actually said something like that?"  
  
Nick grinned. "Yeah, but it's not funny. I mean, if anyone else had said it, ok, but not Philip, especially not the way he feels the church." Nick took a sip of coffee. "Do you think I should tell Derek?" he asked.  
  
"You really don't have anything concrete to tell him, Nick, " said Rachel. "Maybe Philip is trying to change, to become less – reserved," she finished.  
  
"I don't know, Rachel. I would feel better if I knew what was up."  
  
"Tell you what." Rachel picked up her coffee. "I'll see if I can talk to Philip, and I get a hint of anything not being quite right, I'll tell Derek. Fair enough?"  
  
Nick drained his coffee cup. "Fair enough. He should be coming downstairs soon." Nick looked up at approaching footsteps to see Derek coming down the stairs. "Speak of the devil – "  
  
"Good morning everyone." Derek sat down and rubbed his face.  
  
"Good morning, Derek. Did you have a rough night?" asked Rachel.  
  
"Well, no. Just early this morning my sleep was interrupted. I don't know what it was, I just felt someone watching me. Yet when I woke up just seconds later, there was no one there." Derek poured a cup of coffee. "Was there anyone about this morning, Nick?"  
  
"What time this morning? Philip was in the library until about three or so, then I set the alarm when he went to his room," answered Nick.  
  
"What was he doing up so late?" asked Rachel.  
  
"Don't tell me he was working on that cross, " said Derek with a frown.  
  
"What else?" replied Nick.  
  
"What cross?" asked Rachel.  
  
"The cross Nick and I found on the beach yesterday." Philip sat down at the table next to Rachel. "It's quite interesting actually. It's from Ireland, and made in the early 1700s. I can't find the artist's mark in any of the books I've seen so far, though. I thought today I would scan it and see if I can find anything in its makeup that helps determine its origin."  
  
Rachel glimpsed a glimmer of metal underneath his shirt. "Is that it, " she asked.  
  
"Aye. Beautiful, isn't it? The detail on the crossmembers reminds me of rune stones, but if they are, I canna read them," he replied.  
  
Rachel looked up. "Philip, have you been back to Ireland lately?  
  
"No, lass. Why do you ask?"  
  
"No reason. I just thought you have more of an accent today. It's probably my imagination," she said, looking at Nick.  
  
"Philip," Derek interrupted, "why don't you give the cross to Alex to analyze today? She can see if there is a translation for the writing."  
  
Philip stiffened. "Alex is probably busy, no? I don't want to put my work off on her," he said. "Besides, -"  
  
"No, Philip." Derek said firmly. "No work for you today. You're on vacation, remember? Today you are going to relax and take it easy. No arguments." Derek looked at Philip. My God, he thought, he's angry. No, it's something more than that. I wonder why, he mused. "Give me the cross, Philip. I'll take it down to Alex." He held out his hand.  
  
"That's ok, Derek." Philip managed to keep his voice even. "I'll take it to her meself, then I can tell her what I've learned up to now." He stood up from the table and left without offering any good-byes.  
  
Nick looked at Rachel. "That's what I mean. He's acting strange."  
  
"I agree." Derek looked thoughtful. "I wonder if something happened at the rectory."  
  
"I don't want to gossip," said Nick slowly, "but he got a phone call today from Father Murphy, and he was making off color remarks about the nuns and then during the phone call he was yelling so loudly I could hear him all the way down here. He's definitely upset about something."  
  
"When Philip called me to tell me was taking a vacation, he said it was unexpected. I know he was upset when he called. I thought at the time something was wrong, but I didn't know what it was." He sighed. "I think I'll try to have a talk with Philip, and I guess there's no time like the present." He stood up from the table. "I'll see you later," he said as he started to walk away. Snapping his fingers, he returned to them. "By the way," he said, " the roses my mother was sending from Amsterdam are here. Philip loves to garden. He gets it from his mother, I think. Maybe thinking about something else will help him. How about meeting in the garden later, and we'll plant them?"  
  
Rachel and Nick looked at each other. "Well, ok, Derek," said Nick slowly.Rachel nodded her head and grinned. "Sure, boss," she said cheerily. "Nothing like physical labor to heal the soul."  
  
Derek walked to the false wall that hid the control room from view. After his eye was scanned and his identity verified, he walked into the dimly lit room. Alex was manipulating the controls of a box-like instrument where the cross was enclosed by acrylic panels, practically indestructible.  
  
"Alex. What's your plan of attack?" he asked.  
  
"First, Derek, I'm just scanning for general information, then I plan to see if the computer generates any kind of match. The next thing will be to see if the metal can be analyzed without taking a piece from the artifact. If not, I'll have to take a small sliver of it, preferably from the middle back."  
  
"Sounds good. Let me known if you find anything, ok?" Derek turned to go. "By the way, do you know where Philip is?" he asked.  
  
"Try the garden. He said something about wanting to plant those roses your mother sent. You know, Derek, he looks really pale. Maybe Rachel should have a look at him." Alex looked at Derek with concern.  
  
"Good idea. I'll see what I can do." Derek left the control room and walked to an intercom access panel. No, he thought, I'll just go find him. He continued down the hall and to the kitchen where the windows in the breakfast nook gave a wide view of the patio and surrounding lawn. He saw Philip sitting in a chaise lounge with his eyes closed. Alex is right, he thought, he does look pale. I didn't notice how tired he looked this morning.  
  
He went out the sliding glass door to the patio. "Philip! There you are! Ready to start digging holes?" he asked.  
  
"Holes? What holes?" Philip asked groggily.  
  
"Nick, Rachel and I are going to plant Mother's roses. We'd like your help, if you'd like to join us," said Derek.  
  
"Oh, aye, they can't just sit around or the roots will rot," Philip stood up and the two men set out to the garden.  
  
They found Nick and Rachel behind a hedgerow where the roses had been neatly laid out, looking at the tags each rose bore.  
  
"It's about time you two got here, " said Nick. "We were going to start without you."  
  
"Not me, " said Rachel. "I was just going to watch."  
  
Nick threw a shovel towards Philip, who barely caught the handle. "Hey, watch out!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Sorry. I thought you were watching," said Nick with a grin.  
  
"Why are you planting them here, Derek?" asked Rachel.  
  
Derek motioned towards Philip. "I yield the floor to our resident expert," he said.  
  
"Because the hedges will help protect them from the salt air. These roses seem to be hardier than most, " said Philip, examining one. "I don't think they'll have any problems here."  
  
"Good!" said Derek. "These are roses my mother has bred, and she has tried to make them tolerant of almost impossible conditions."  
  
"Come on, " said Nick. "Where do you want the holes?" They set about measuring and soon had the holes dug and the roses firmly placed.  
  
"What a job!" Nick had taken off his shirt and tied it around his waist. He wiped the sweat from his face with his arm. He gathered the shovels they had used and laid them in an empty wheelbarrow. "I'll put these away if Rachel makes some iced tea," he said.  
  
"It's a deal," replied Rachel. She and Nick set off for the house. "Meet us in the kitchen, ok?" she threw over her shoulder.  
  
"Ok. Just let me check a few things first," called Philip. He walked around each rose, making sure they lacked nothing. "These should do fine, Derek. They are good stock. Your mother has done an excellent job."  
  
"They won awards in Amsterdam, Philip. I hope they do as well here, "Derek replied as they slowly made their way to house. "Philip, forgive me if this is none of my business, but is everything all right? You're not acting like yourself," Derek asked, watching Philip intently.  
  
"Derek, I'm fine. I guess I just really need a vacation," replied Philip quietly.  
  
They reached the sliding glass door and entered the kitchen. Nick and Rachel were sitting at the table waiting for them with tall glasses of inviting iced tea.  
  
"This hits the spot!" exclaimed Nick. He drained the glass and put it on the table. "I'm going to shower and then just kick back."  
  
"Good idea, Nick," said Derek. "I got dirtier than I thought. I should take a shower, too."  
  
"I have to pick up Kat in a little while to take her to the bookstore, " said Rachel. "She's reading the Hobbit now."  
  
Philip sat at the table slowly drinking his tea. I need to ask Rachel about my dream now, he thought, before she leaves. He continued drinking as one by one they dispersed and only he and Rachel were left in the kitchen.  
  
"Rachel, " he began, "do you have a minute?"  
  
"Sure, Philip," she said, giving him her full attention. "What's on your mind?"  
  
"Well, I'm not sure. It's probably nothing, " he said uncomfortably. "But last night I dreamed I went walking through out the house and grounds, looking at everything. But it wasn't me, Rachel, it was something using me, using my eyes to see things." He swallowed. "I even went into Derek's room," he almost whispered.  
  
"Philip, it's ok," she tried to calm him, but he continued as if he had forgotten she was there.  
  
"I think Derek saw me, " he said, "but maybe not. I don't know for sure. Then, when I woke up, I had a phone call from Father Murphy." Philip looked at her in shame. "I yelled at him and said some terrible things. I've never raised my voice like that. It's like I'm somebody else." He was actually trembling, Rachel noticed. "Can ye help me?" he asked hoarsely.  
  
Rachel thought rapidly. "We can set up a sleep monitor in your room tonight. If anything is happening at night, we'll find out about it, ok?" Philip nodded, but he still looked miserable. "Philip, you're among friends. We won't let anything happen to you."  
  
Philip nodded slowly. "Thank you, Rachel." He stood up. "I'm going to take a shower, and then I should go and help Alex."  
  
"No, Philip," said Rachel, "just take it easy for a change. Why don't you go watch TV or something?"  
  
Just then Nick walked into the room, smelling freshly of soap. "How about a game of chess?" he asked.  
  
"That's just what this doctor ordered," quipped Rachel. "I'm off, guys. I'm going to tell Derek, and then I'll see you later." She turned and was gone before they quite realized it.  
  
"I'm going to take a shower, Nick. I'll be right down," said Philip. "Meet me in the parlor?"  
  
"Yeah. Is there any more of that iced tea?" came Nick's voice from the refrigerator.  
  
Nick and Philip sat down at the chess table in the parlor. "So, " said Nick, "what gives?"  
  
Philip looked at him. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I know you too well for you to keep hiding from me," said Nick. "I know something's wrong, so get it over with and tell me about it."  
  
Philip looked down. "Last night when I went to sleep, I dreamed I went all over the house and grounds," he said. "It was like something else was using me to get a tour, get a layout of the place. I even went into Derek's room. I think he might have seen me, but he hasn't said anything."  
  
"What else?" Nick gazed steadily at Philip.  
  
"Tonight Rachel is going to put a sleep monitor in my room to see what is happening."  
  
"What about the phone call this morning from Father Murphy?" Nick asked. "I could hear you all the way downstairs. And I've never heard you talk the way you did today. Do you remember what you said?" Nick questioned.  
  
"Yes, I know!" broke from Philip. "I already apologized to him. I'm sorry ye had to hear it too, Nick."  
  
"Philip, answer me something," said Nick quietly.  
  
"What, Nick?" asked Philip warily.  
  
"You're not here on vacation, are you?"  
  
Philip closed his eyes. How can I tell him this, he thought. It's too soon. I can't even explain it to meself, let alone someone else. He stood up and went to the window, where he took a deep breath. "No, Nick," he said quietly. He turned back to Nick and sat down at the table. "But please, don't tell anyone else, " he pleaded. "Not until I've found someplace else to go, then I'll tell them," he said. "Please, Nick."  
  
Nick looked at him. "Ok. But they're your family, too, brother. They deserve to know."  
  
"I know, Nick." Philip looked down. "But please, not yet."  
  
"Don't worry." Nick started to lay out the chess game. "But soon, Philip. Don't hide from us." He finished the board. "White or black?"  
  
"White, please." Maybe it would lift the blackness in his heart. The game was on, and both men fell silent, concentrating on their moves.  
  
Rachel found Derek as he rounded the corner to the main entrance. "I'm off to get Kat," she reminded him. "And, I talked to Philip. Do you remember this morning when you said you felt a presence in your room?"  
  
Derek nodded expectantly. "Yes?"  
  
"Well, Philip said last night he dreamed he walked over the house and grounds, and he even went in your room. He thought you might have seen him. And –"  
  
"It wasn't Philip. I'm not sure who it was," said Derek, "but it definitely wasn't Philip."  
  
"And," continued Rachel," he said it wasn't him, but someone using him."  
  
"That explains a lot," said Derek thoughtfully.  
  
"Yes," said Rachel. "Tonight we'll set up a sleep monitor in his room. If he is being used by someone or something, we'll find out."  
  
"Yes, " said Derek. "Well, off to get Kat, then. Give her my love."  
  
"I will. I'll be back soon." Then she was off.Derek closed the door thoughtfully. "I think an interesting night lies ahead," he said to no one in particular.  
  
"Now. One more connection and you're all set," said Rachel.  
  
"Are ye sure yer not going to electrocute me?" asked Philip warily.  
  
"Now, Philip, relax. There's not enough current here to do anything. Alex, are you getting any readings?" asked Rachel.  
  
"Everything is coming in fine here. Everything looks normal," she replied.  
  
"Good. Philip, Nick is here in the room with you, even if you can't see him from where you are." Derek put his hand on Philip's shoulder. "If you need help, call out."  
  
Nick himself appeared above Philip. "Don't worry, brother, I'm right here," he said, grasping Philip's hand.  
  
Philip managed a faint smile.  
  
"Derek and I will be in the control room with Alex, monitoring you." Rachel smiled down at Philip. "Ready?"  
  
"Ready," he said, although he looked anything but.  
  
In the control room, Alex kept a steady watch on the gauges showing Philips vital signs. She turned to Derek and Rachel as they came in. "He's already asleep!" she exclaimed. "That didn't take long."  
  
"I didn't think it would," said Rachel. "I think today he was almost asleep on his feet." She looked around. "Did Nick make us some of his famous coffee?"  
  
"Indeed he did," said Derek as he poured them all cups of the steaming liquid.  
  
"This may take a little longer, now, for him to reach dream sleep," said Rachel as she sipped her coffee.  
  
"Alex, why don't you use this time to tell us what you found out about the cross?" said Derek.  
  
"Ok. I'm still running a test on a substance I found on it, that didn't seem to be part of the original finish," she said. "That analysis should be coming through any minute now," she continued. "Let's see. For now, though, I can tell you that it was made by Sean O'Riley, an Irish priest who emigrated from Ireland in 1744. He was here for about three years when he was defrocked, for –" she paused and looked at the printout by her side. "For trafficking with the dark side," she finished. "The elders of the town and the clergy, not just the Catholic, but also the protestant, gathered together at his trial. The proof was pretty convincing, apparently. He cursed this cross he made, stating 'This cross to which men turn for comfort shall become a millstone about their necks.' Then he was to be burnt at the stake when he suddenly disappeared."  
  
"What happened to the cross then?" asked Derek.  
  
Alex shrugged. "No one knows for sure. He was rumored to have worn it when he disappeared. It's odd that it would turn up now, isn't it?"  
  
Her attention shifted suddenly to the monitors in front of her. "Heads up, guys, something's happening." She spoke into the radio to Nick. "Nick, is everything ok?"  
  
"Everything's fine here," came the reply. "He's sleeping like a baby."  
  
"Keep your eyes on him, Nick," broke in Derek. "His heartbeat, blood pressure and respiration are way up."  
  
"No," exclaimed Rachel, "now they're down. He's almost comatose."  
  
"Is anything showing up on infra-red?" cut in Nick. "I've got movement here!"  
  
"Yes!" said Derek. "There it is!"  
  
They watched as the shadow took shape by Philip's bed. It formed, shimmered and then formed again.  
  
"That's not Philip!" exclaimed Rachel.  
  
"No," said Alex. "That's Sean O'Riley!"  
  
The ghostly figure turned and passed through the door to the hallway.  
  
"Look, the camera's picked him up," said Derek.  
  
"What's he doing?" asked Rachel.  
  
"I think he's looking for a new home," said Derek. "Alex, what was the rest of his curse?"  
  
Alex scanned her printout. "He was to come back to finish his end of the bargain with the dark side, when he found a patriot ex-priest, an Irishman who like him, had cast off the shackles of the priesthood."  
  
"I don't understand," said Rachel. "Philip's Irish, but he's still a priest. He's only here on vacation."  
  
"No he's not!" interrupted Nick, who had been listening in. "He told me earlier, or rather I made him tell me, what's going on. He's left the priesthood. That's why he was taking an 'unexpected vacation'."  
  
"What's O'Riley doing now?" asked Derek.  
  
"He's just roaming the halls, it looks like," replied Alex. "The question is, how do we get rid of him?"  
  
"We have to be careful. Philip's vital signs are too low for comfort, and we don't know how what we do to O'Riley will affect him. We may lose him if we get rid of O'Riley," said Rachel.  
  
"Nick!" called Derek. "Talk to Philip! Try to wake him up! He has to fight this thing. It's using him, and he has to fight back!"  
  
Nick ran to the bedside and crouched by Philip. "Philip, can you hear me?" There was no response. "Philip! Wake up, we need you!"  
  
In the control room a chirp interrupted their words. "Here's the analysis," said Alex.  
  
"What does it say?" asked Rachel.  
  
Alex gasped. "It's human skin!" she exclaimed.  
  
"What?!?" Derek grabbed the paper from her. Glancing at the keyboard, he made a few entries. "Not just human skin, but it's Philip's skin! That thing is going to become Philip!"  
  
"That would explain the brogue and the use of Gaelic," said Alex.  
  
"What if we destroy the cross?" asked Rachel.  
  
"Not while it's awake and Philip is asleep," said Derek. "Philip has to be aware of what it's doing and want to fight it!" replied Derek.  
  
"Nick, are you having any luck?" called Derek.  
  
"No! He's too deep!" came the static filled reply.  
  
"Keep trying! We can't use any stimulants, it has to be him that wants to come back to us!" Derek hoped that Nick could hear him through the static on the radio.  
  
"Come on, Philip!" Nick was whispering by Philip's head. "Philip, we want you to come back to us. We need you, brother." There was no response. "Philip! I know you can hear me. Wake up and help me, Philip. If we mean anything to you, come back to us…..for God's sake, wake up!"  
  
"His pulse is increasing, Nick!" he faintly heard Rachel's report over the radio. "BP is climbing too."  
  
"Come on, Philip," said Nick.  
  
"Nick….I" Philip's voice could barely be heard. "I was so far away…I heard you calling me, but I couldn't get back." His eyes barely focused. "How did I get here?"  
  
"Philip, listen carefully," came Derek's voice over the radio. "We don't have much time. The cross you found on the beach belonged to Sean O'Riley, an Irish ex-priest who sold out to the dark side. He's trying to use you to finish his part of the bargain. Do you understand?" asked Derek.  
  
Philip paled. "What do I have to do?" he asked.  
  
"You must confront O'Riley and banish him back to hell," replied Derek.  
  
Philip nodded weakly.  
  
"Can you walk?" asked Nick.  
  
"I think so," he replied. "Just give me a hand up."  
  
Nick helped him rise, and together they made their way out of the bedroom and down the hall.  
  
"Where is he, Derek?" asked Nick.  
  
"In the main hall, Nick. Don't let him leave the house – we won't be able to contain him," said Derek.  
  
Nick looked at Philip, who had leaned against the wall. "Are you still with me?" he asked.  
  
Philip nodded. "Let's go."  
  
They slowly went down the stairs, where they could see the shadow approaching them. "Are you ready, Philip?" asked Nick. He could see how weak Philip still was. He didn't see how Philip could stand alone, much less banish the demon priest.  
  
Philip nodded and stepped out to meet the shadowy figure. "Sean O'Riley," he called to it. The wind rose, and curtains billowed. "Sean O'Riley, I command you to go back to hell where from you came!" yelled Philip. The creature let loose a howl. Thunder and lightening were inside the hallway, making it impossible to see or hear.  
  
"Nick!" yelled Derek. "What's going on?"  
  
"I don't know! I can't –" The radio went dead.  
  
"Come on!" cried Rachel, heading for the door.  
  
"No! Stay here!" Derek grabbed her arm. "If he gets through them, this room is our last hope," he told her.  
  
Philip was thrown back against the all, striking his head soundly. He was vaguely aware of sliding to the floor where he lay numbed for several seconds. A sweet Irish brogue came through the darkness. "Join me, laddie…ye won't regret it!" it echoed seductively in his head.  
  
Philip struggled to his knees. "NO!" he yelled. "I won't join ye!" He clamped his hands to head as if he could shut out the voice in his head. "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I banish you to hell, Sean O'Riley. Ye have no power here!"  
  
The creature picked Philip up and threw him as if he were a rag doll. He came down hard on his left arm and felt the bone snap, rather than heard it. Blood was running down his face from a gash on his head. He saw the creature throw Nick to one side. Once more he struggled to his feet. "No!" he shouted. The creature stopped in it's advance on Nick and turned toward him. "In the name of all saints, I command ye, BEGONE!"  
  
All of a sudden the creature howled and dropped to its knees. Its body seemed to be full of holes, where a yellow light rose up and then fell to earth where it disappeared. It was suddenly quiet.  
  
"Nick!" Philip felt his heart turn over as he looked at his brother. He took a wobbly step towards him, then he too hit the ground and knew nothing more.  
  
In the control room the cross seemed to glow, then crumbled into dust. A wind sprang up, scattering the dust, then it too was gone.  
  
"Nick! Philip! Are you alright?" Derek scanned the hallway camera. "Now let's go!" he called to Alex and Rachel.  
  
They ran to the hallway. Nick was sitting on one step, breathing heavily.  
  
"Nick! Are you all right? Where's Philip?" asked Rachel, kneeling beside him.  
  
"I'm ok, " he mumbled. "Don't know where Philip is….couldn't find him.."  
  
"He's over here!" Derek called. "Alex, help me move this table -"  
  
Together they lifted the table and moved it to the side. "Philip," called Alex, "can you hear me?"  
  
Rachel came over to them, supporting Nick. Philip lay unmoving in the rubble. Nick sat down heavily beside him and grasped his hand.  
  
"Philip…come back to us, Philip," he whispered. It can't end like this, he thought. Not with so much left unsaid.  
  
Philip stirred. "Nick," he said hoarsely. "Nick! Where's Nick?" he tried to sit up.  
  
"Easy, Philip," Derek restrained him. "Nick's right here."  
  
"Philip…I'm here," said Nick. "Are you going to live?"  
  
Gently they helped him to his feet. "Let's go into the control room and have a look at you guys," said Rachel.  
  
"I'm ok," said Philip, wincing as he moved his broken arm. "Is he gone?" He looked around the hallway at the damage.  
  
Derek put his arm around Philip's waist and helped him into the corridor to the control room. "Yes, he's gone. Now," he said, "let's go get you two cleaned up."  
  
Together they walked to the control room, each one lost in their own thoughts. Later that evening, after Rachel had declared both men's injuries were not life threatening, Philip and Nick were resting in Philip's room.  
  
Nick looked at the sleeping form of his brother. His arm had been set, and the cut on his head hadn't been serious enough to require stitches. A little sleep and they both would feel better. This is what happens, Nick thought, when we all try to solve our problems alone. Why can't we see that when we fight together, we are strong? Alone, we fall like leaves. Closing his eyes, he made a silent vow to his friend. Never again, he thought, will I let pride get in the way of my love for you, for the rest of my family here. We were given a second chance tonight. I won't let it go unnoticed. Nick sighed. Sleep well, brother, he thought. Silently he pulled the blankets closer around Philip, and squeezed his shoulder. He pulled another blanket from the window seat, and pulled his chair closer to the bed. "Sleep well, Philip," he said again, this time aloud. He sat down in the chair and pulled his blanket around him. Tomorrow we have another chance.  
  
When Derek looked in the room a little later to check on them, he smiled at the scene. Philip was in the bed and Nick was in the chair by the bed, just like when they were little. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for bringing them together. He closed the door, and left his sleeping children to their dreams.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Copyright 2/98 Ruth Cueva 


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